My John Watson
by MissKitty58
Summary: Sherlock needs a little help with an experiment from John Watson. Rated T for mild torture and Johnlock :)


Sherlock was getting agitated. This was his third failed experiment. Maybe there were just a few miscalculated variables? He wanted to test the effects of pain on a loving mind versus a hating mind. Maybe pigs weren't his best test subjects... He needed a human for this experiment- but who would volunteer for this? The experiment involved tying the subject to a chair, making the subject either loving or hating by inducing some rather... unpleasant variables. He needed someone to put up with him, someone who wouldn't be too hurt by his words, someone that cared for him.

"JAWN!" he yelled, throwing his head back with the force of the shout.

"Jesus Sherlock, keep it down." John stood up from his chair and made his way to the kitchen only to be met by a grinning Sherlock and various experimental instruments strewn about.

"What's this?" John asked, confusion twisting his features.

"An experiment. I need your help. It will not be very enjoyable for you, but it's in the name of science. I'll be here with you, and I won't let my experiments hurt you. So what do you say?" Sherlock asked, a childlike smile on his anxious face, obviously excited.

John took one long look at Sherlock. This man wanted to experiment on him. But how could he say no to that face? Besides, Sherlock wouldn't hurt him, would he...? This was his best friend, and he loved the guy. He smiled at the tall, skinny man in front of him.

"Alright Sherlock, only if you promise not to hurt me... and do be careful."

Sherlock jumped up in the air, barely able to contain his excitement. He ran up to John and kissed him on the forehead out of complete ecstasy,

"You are absolutely brilliant John!" he yelled, grabbing John by the wrist and dragging him to the wooden chair equipped with handcuffs.

"Well, you didn't mention the handcuffs," John started, a bit worried.

Sherlock just laughed and sat John down in the chair, equipping the handcuffs with a muffled click, a smile on his face the whole time.

"Now, Sherlock, what exactly does this experiment of yours entail?" He asked, still worried.

"Can't tell you. Otherwise it wouldn't work as well. But you won't like it. And know that anything I say here is all part of the experiment." Sherlock stated, fumbling around the room for his weapon of choice. John was uneasy, but he knew Sherlock wouldn't hurt him.

Now where did I put that torture device...? Sherlock thought to himself, making a mess of the kitchen, where he insisted on doing his experiments.

"Aha!" He yelled, pulling a small metal contraption out from under a bucket filled with test tubes. "Now, John, this might be uncomfortable, which is why I need to give you this.

Before John could protest, Sherlock injected a rather menacing looking green fluid into John's left arm. John yelped in pain, and tried to reach up to his arm. His hands were still bound though, resulting in some very painful burning marks on his wrists. John instantly started to feel weary. His vision became hazy and all he could focus on were Sherlock's words. His entire body felt numb, and he couldn't move any part of it. He focused on Sherlock's face, his pale skin, his green eyes, his black curly hair that seemed endlessly long in his drug-induced world. Sherlock was talking, but he couldn't make out much of what he was saying, miles away from reality.

Sherlock sighed. He first had to make John hate him, then use his torture device on him. He didn't want to hurt John, but they had already gotten this far. A flurry of harsh, icy words flew from his mouth towards John.

"You are a perfect example of the stupid breed of human I strive to never become,"

"I never needed you."

"Alone protects me."

All part of the experiment, John thought to himself.

"You were just a stupid cripple when I took you in."

"I don't need you."

Sherlock felt tears stinging his eyes. He was about ready to stop his experiment and pull John into a hug, whisper words of endearment. But no, he must go on. He pulled the torture device out of his pocket and switched it on. A small metal blade spun on one end with a loud grinding noise. Sherlock hooked John up to a heart monitor and drove the torture device into John's left shoulder. John was a mess. He was yelling at Sherlock, but his words came out slurred and unintelligible due to the drugs. John's tears tried to drown him. His blood was flowing mercilessly out of the small wound in his shoulder.

"All done! Sherlock proclaimed, "Now for the happy part."

John looked up, confused, and Sherlock smiled. He was going to have fun with this.

"My John. My John Watson."

"Friends protect people."

"My best friend."

"I could never live without you."

"John, I love you."

John's heart rate calmed quickly, and he stopped crying. Sherlock drove the blade into John's other shoulder. John didn't react as much, he merely flinched.

It worked. Less pain when the subject felt loved. Sherlock laughed to himself and untied John from the chair, pulling him into a hug.

"I knew you would do great," Sherlock whispered into John's hair. "I am so sorry, but you really helped me"

John sighed into Sherlock's chest, glad that ordeal was over. He felt safe again. It was all over. Sherlock didn't mean any of that, just a stupid experiment. Sherlock carried John to his bed and tended to the wounds on either shoulder.

"I'm so sorry about this." Sherlock said, focusing on stitching up John's cuts.

"It's alright, I volunteered." John laughed, sinking into Sherlock's arms.

The pair sat like that for what felt like eternity, in each other's arms.

"Remind me to never help you with another experiment." John moaned, the effects of the drugs still in place.

Sherlock laughed. He kissed John's cheek and stood up off of the bed.

"You need to get some rest," he said. John groaned and snuggled up in his bed.

"Goodnight Sherlock." John said.

"Goodnight John," he replied. He flicked off the lightswitch, but didn't move. He stood in the doorway watching John, making sure he was safe. John's breaths eventually evened out and he fell asleep. Sherlock smirked and turned around, leaving the room.

"My John. My John Watson." he murmured to himself.


End file.
